


one too many (bad thoughts inside me)

by ochotonidae



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: (it's a bit squeamish), (suicidal ideation but idk how to tag that), ...not a good mental state :/, Angst, Blood, Blood and Injury, Body Horror, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders-centric, Fainting, Healing, Hopeful Ending, Hurt Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Hurt/Comfort, Like Lots, Mild Gore, Near Death, Not Really Character Death, PLEASE TELL ME IF THERE'S SOMETHING ELSE I NEED TO TAG, Pain, Self-Worth Issues, Serious Injuries, Suicidal Thoughts, Swearing, Worry, does that work here, he doesn't really care about his life, i am not good at writing emotions, i think (i don't really know what gore counts as), mention of maggots, please read these, so he's kinda reckless, someone please tell me if there's a tag for that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:21:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27391897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ochotonidae/pseuds/ochotonidae
Summary: Vaguely, he knew the blood would be a bitch to clean out of his rug, but he might not even have to deal with that if he didn’t get up soon.Or: Remus does not have the best sense of self-worth, and the others do not approve of that.PLEASE READ THE TAGS!
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, it's an & but i feel like i need to specify not remrom, minor remus & all the other sides
Comments: 16
Kudos: 61





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> title is from suicidal thoughts by josh a and jake hill  
>  ~~i guess it kinda has something to do with the actual story? not really though~~

His vision blurred, black fading in around the edges. At this point, the pain had dulled into a low ache, but he might have just been creeping closer to death. He hadn’t moved since he collapsed on the floor of his room, legs giving out and sending his face flying into the ground.

Vaguely, he knew the blood would be a bitch to clean out of his rug, but he might not even have to deal with that if he didn’t get up soon.

His nose throbbed with heat, and he knew it’d been broken, but that was the least of his worries. Honestly, it was highly likely that some part of him that never should have seen light was definitely pressed against the carpet, but he chose to ignore that.

He propped himself up on an elbow, a pained shriek tearing from his throat as an injury stretched. It was at times like this (although it was never this bad) that he was happy his room was sound-proofed.

Could he die? He’d never really thought about it. Sides weren’t really people. Sure, they got hungry and tired and injured, but that would more affect how they performed in Thomas. But maybe he could die. There was already another Creativity, lined up and ready to take full control.

Honestly, he could probably heal his injuries, if he concentrated hard enough. But a nagging voice in the back of his head (one that wasn’t that small) didn’t want him to. He was content like this. Bleeding out on his carpet.

He was probably dying. Whatever, it wasn’t like there was much left in life for him. Thomas would be fine.

Giggles blossomed in his lungs, sending a burst of white-hot pain through his chest. He was finally going to die. He’d been waiting for this for a while.

Thinking logically (See, Logan? He could be smart), Thomas could get rid of him if he wanted. He wasn’t needed for Thomas to succeed. If he wanted, Thomas could repress him enough that the Mindscape decided that he didn’t need a form anymore.

His arm was trembling under his weight now, and he let it collapse, face falling back onto the ground with a thump. He could feel a bruise developing on his cheek, but he’d probably be dead before it would appear.

Would the other sides even notice? It wasn’t like they talked to him very often. If he was lucky, Patton would check on him once a week. He’d stopped doing that after the most recent fiasco, though. And he would never be summoned. He was too loud and annoying for them to want him there.

Imagine Patton, knocking on his door in a week and finding his rotten body, festering and getting devoured by maggots. A weak laugh escaped his mouth. That would be funny.

He felt his mind slip further away from consciousness, and happiness bubbled inside him. He was almost dead. The Imagination had decided to kill him off. About time.

His eyes slipped shut, mind going blank. The last thing he heard was the telltale whoosh of somebody appearing in his room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey sorry if it's bad please let me know if i made a mistake cause i wrote almost all of this in one go and haven't edited it at all pretty much

There was something deeply _off_. Roman couldn’t explain it if he tried, but he knew that something was wrong.

And as he usually did when the weight on his chest got too heavy, Roman headed to the Imagination.

It was strangely quiet as he carefully stepped around landmines in the barrier between their kingdoms. The silence was thick with tension, footsteps echoing through the misty air.

Still, Roman marched forwards. He… wasn’t much of a ‘blood is thicker than water’ side, but despite his remarks, he still cared about Remus. The side was his _brother_. Two halves of a whole. They were there for each other. Right?

It was when he was sneaking around the Dragon Witch’s cavern — drawing his breath in as she poked her head out to stare at him, but staring as she only gestured towards Remus’s door into the Imagination — that he realized it was serious.

Roman steeled himself, sinking out and rising up in Remus’s room. It was a crude mirror of his own — moth-eaten sheets, chunks ~~that looked like bite marks~~ missing from the bedposts, _something_ dripping from the ceiling and nearly splashing onto Roman’s shoes, but still with the four-poster bed, grand desk, and settee that his own held. And it was dull; muted and greying more by the minute.

But that wasn’t what Roman noticed first. It was the blood.

The pool of blood surrounding Remus’ unmoving body, something just barely visible underneath him that made Roman want to bleach his eyes. The coppery scent hit him like a brick, and he nearly gagged.

Was it bad that the first thing Roman felt was exasperation? When they were little, still friends, Remus did this often. He’d get Janus to call Roman over (of course now, the two couldn’t make eye contact for more than ten seconds), and pretend to be dead on the floor. Roman would scream, but he’d know that his brother was still okay, and he’d get up in a couple minutes.

Of course, it’d been twenty years since he’d last done that. And it was never accompanied by the same itching sense of wrong in Roman’s gut. That was only recognizable from…

From when Remus would come back from the Imagination limping, an arm curled around his stomach protectively, and blood dripping down his forehead. When he flung himself into Roman’s arms, pretending he wasn’t whimpering. When he almost cried in relief as Roman healed him — he’d always been worse at the healing thing, messing up if he lost focus and making things worse.

Roman’s blood ran cold. He stood frozen for a moment, heart pounding in his ears, before scrambling forwards to press two fingers to Remus’s neck. He stood frozen for a moment, panic flooding through him, before feeling the faintest of pulses.

He let out a sigh, gritting his teeth before rolling Remus over — and immediately regretting it. Wincing, Roman held out his hands over the… hole in his body, and let his power channel through his hands and into Remus.

Nothing happened for a few agonizing moments, and Roman felt his heart stop. But then, as he let a single tear slip down his cheek, there was a spark. Roman watched behind half-closed eyes as Remus’s skin knitted back together, leaving a dark twisted scar in its place.

He nearly collapsed from relief, hands trembling as he grasped Remus’s hand in some semblance of comfort.

It was cold. Too cold. Remus’s room was freezing.

Roman scooped the side up in his arms, ~~pointedly ignoring how cold and limp he was,~~ and rose up in his own room.

Almost immediately, the blood dripping from his outfit slowed, the tiniest bit of colour returning to Remus’s skin. Roman’s room had a jarringly large effect on sides that entered, influenced greatly by his own emotions.

Roman laid him down on the bed, sagging against the wall almost immediately. He snapped a wet towel into existence, softly dabbing at the blood caked on Remus’s forehead and in his hair.

By the time he was done, he’d gone through three towels and the blood was gone from the rest of Remus’s body, having been snapped into a pair of pajamas (which were not, in fact, his own; rather Roman’s).

Remus was murmuring quietly under his breath; squirming out of Roman’s grasp. Sweat rolled down his forehead as his jaw clenched, hands turning into fists.

Roman grabbed his hand, holding it tightly and whispering unheard reassurances until Remus quieted, all the while hoping he'd understand. 

He carefully laid Remus underneath the duvet, hand lingering on his shoulder for an extra moment before sinking out and into the kitchen.

“What the fuck?!” a voice screeched as Roman rummaged through the cupboards for a glass. He spun around, hands flying up in a placating gesture.

Virgil was staring at him, eyeshadow growing as Roman watched. “Roman?!” he shrieked, voice doubling and turning into a growl.

Roman glanced down at himself, freezing as he noticed the slick blood soaked through his clothes.

“Um- it’s n-not mine,” he stammered, switching his outfit into another (not covered in his brother’s blood) suit.

“I- uh, you might want to call everyone for this.” his hands were shaking, and he clenched them into fists around his sash.

Virgil stared at him, frozen.

“If it’s not your blood, whose is it?!” he cried. “I- it's- Remus.” Roman responded, pressing down the tears that threatened to fall over.

Virgil’s hands flew up to his mouth. Within a second, Patton and Logan had risen up, called by the faint flick of his wrist. They looked at him questioningly, but Roman just shook his head.

“Can… can you call Janus?” Roman murmured, going to sink out.

“I’m pleasantly surprised. Why would _I_ be needed with the precious Light Sides?” Janus appeared in front of him, hat gone and clothes rumpled.

Roman frowned, scrutinizing the side. Janus’s human eye was bloodshot, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“It’s important. Re- Remus is…” he trailed off, but he’d already caught everyone’s attention.

“You found him?” Janus collapsed onto the couch, hugging himself tightly.

“He’s in my room. Come-”

“Roman? ” a voice called from the stairs, and they all spun around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhh i guess there's a third chapter?  
> haha tune in like next month or whenever i find out how to write emotions


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha sorry this is so late   
> i don't really have an excuse i just put it off BUT it's here now  
> have fun

Remus woke up with a gasp. Well, that was the first problem, wasn’t it?

He wasn’t supposed to be awake, right? He still wasn’t sure if sides could die (he’d have to consult the 4-inch-thick book about the Mindscape that Janus kept in his room), but he was pretty sure that it wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

He hadn’t died and been reformed either, cause his side hurt like a _bitch_. His vision was still hazy, ears ringing a high pitched tone that he _hated_. But he clearly wasn’t lying face-down on his floor, so that meant… that somebody’d found him. Oh.

The blinding white and gold of this room, paired with the vibrant red accents, marked it as Roman’s. Well, that was fun. Roman had come into his room (for whatever reason), seen him bleeding out on the carpet, and patched him up.

But why? Roman hated him. He was the evil twin anyways, why would Roman pass up on a chance to get rid of the villain once and for all?

Remus kicked the duvet off of him, the mess of Roman’s room coming into focus — bloody towels standing out the most.

He groaned, voice hoarse, as his weight finally fell onto his feet. He noticed idly that he was wearing a light grey long-sleeve shirt with Roman’s crest, and baggy white pants with tiny crowns on them.

Remus scoffed, walking over to the door (and nearly stumbling four times) and making his way to the stairs. Voices were coming from the Commons, and Remus recognized Janus’s drawling tone. What was he doing there?

Remus walked down the stairs, just barely biting back whimpers at how his injuries pulled.

“He’s in my room.” Roman’s voice rang out, quieter than it should be.

“Roman?” Remus frowned, the other sides finally coming into view. They all froze, staring at him in varying levels of shock and relief.

He reached the bottom of the stairs, looking at them with hesitation.

“What, am I missing an eye or something? Ooh, maybe then I could look like J-” Remus tried to joke but he was cut off by a body slamming into him, three pairs of arms wrapping around him tightly as Janus held him close to his chest.

“I didn’t know where you were. There was blood. _So much_ blood. I-” Janus murmured, cutting himself off by burying his head in Remus’s chest.

“Are you… feeling okay?” Roman asked, looking terribly awkward. Remus frowned, raising an eyebrow.

“I mean physically, I guess? I dunno, uh, mentally that’s sorta… opposite my job title, Ro.” For some reason, Logan’s eyes flashed at that.

“O-okay. Kiddo, can you sit down on the couch? We need to have a family meeting.” Patton rubbed his eyes, attempting to smile reassuringly but only succeeding in making Remus’s heart twist.

He nodded, mind strangely quiet instead of its usual screeching of ideas that would earn him getting thrown out within a second if he chose to voice them.

As he made his way over to the corner of the couch, Janus’s grip on him disappeared, the side straightening and brushing off his capelet.

“So what’s up?” Remus chirped, trying to inject some of his usual enthusiasm into his voice but failing miserably.

“I believe you should explain,” Logan said, tone clipped, as he sat down in the opposite corner of the couch. Remus cocked his head, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s there to explain?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe why Roman was covered in your _**blood?!**_ ” Virgil snapped, scrambling to perch on top of the banister.

“I mean… he’s the one that chose to splash around, is all I’m saying,” Remus responded, slightly confused.

“Kiddo, why was there blood in the first place? I know you’ve got… icky interests, but you always conjure that… stuff.” Patton folded his legs, sitting down next to Logan.

Remus opened his mouth, but found no words coming out, eyes flicking blankly to all their faces. Roman sighed, taking a deep breath.

“Alright, I’ll go first. I went to Remus’s room because something felt wrong. Lo and behold, he’s lying in a pool of blood on the ground, almost dead.”

Roman’s breath hitched, and he paused for a second, squeezing Patton’s hand. “I heal him, leave him in my room to get some water for when he wakes up, and Virgil finds me.”

Virgil nodded, staring at Remus with a piercing gaze.

“Uh… sorry? I know you don’t like blood, Ro-bro, but I don’t see the problem here.”

“Remus,” Janus started, voice trembling. “Sides can only take so much physical damage. If you were to die, it would take years for you to fully regain your physical form. Thomas would still have your function, of course, but it would become ingrained in his subconscious, rather than as a side.”

“I really don’t see a problem!” Remus interrupted, immediately knowing he made a mistake by the pure rage on Janus’s face.

“Hey.” Patton murmured, reaching out to place a hand on Janus’s arm. The flames in his eyes flickered out and he turned away, leaning into Patton’s shoulder.

“I don’t know what you want from me!” Remus charged forwards, words tumbling out of his mouth that he couldn’t control if he wanted to. “It won’t affect Thomas, and it _certainly_ doesn’t bother me, and this isn’t even like all those other times with the intrusive thoughts so I don’t get what your problem is and I was _trying_ to be good like you wanted me to so I’m sorry but I don’t know what’s wrong and-”

“Re.” He froze, eyes flicking to Virgil. “Take a deep breath.”

Remus chuckled. “You’re one to talk. Guess the student became the teacher, eh Virgil?” He smiled but Virgil just looked away, eyeshadow growing deeper.

“Remus.” Logan spoke quietly, yet all eyes turned to him. “Why does your death not bother you?”

“I mean…” Remus began, suddenly aware of how faint his voice was. “Roman’s already here, isn’t he? I don’t really need to be here for Thomas to succeed, I guess.”

“Tell me one thing. Did you get injured on purpose?” Logan asked, voice deceptively calm. Four voices cut in, but he put up a hand.

“Please tell me the truth.”

Remus squirmed under their gazes, staring resolutely at the coffee table.

“I mean… I didn’t- I didn’t try to _avoid_ it, per se?” Upon seeing the horrified looks on their faces, he quickly amended: “I didn’t just go in the Imagination and let something kill me, I just… didn’t heal myself. Or… fight back all that much.”

“Remus, look at me.” Janus’s voice was thunderous. “ _Please_ do not tell me that you’re saying-”

“Jan.” Patton laid a warning hand on his shoulder, but Janus pushed him away. “Remus, _please_.” his voice shuddered and Remus flinched away.

“I _ignored_ you-” Janus cut himself off, pressing two hands to his mouth and averting his gaze. A thick silence followed, only broken by the sound of Roman shifting in his seat.

“It- it’s not _your_ fault! I just didn’t… y’know, care.” Remus pried a hand from Janus’s mouth, pulling the side close.

“Alright.” Roman spoke up, having stayed strangely silent. “Why don’t you think that your life matters?”

“It- it just doesn’t. Thomas hates me, so do you all, and Ro, you’re here to take over my function anyways and you have self control so it’ll be fine,” Remus stammered.

“Ream. You matter too. I- nobody hates you-”

“Bullshit,” Virgil growled, interrupting Roman. “That’s fucking bullshit and you know it.” He slid down to the ground in a fluid motion, stalking over to Remus.

“You’re one to talk, _Anxiety_.” Remus sneered, summoning a bit of bravado. To his credit, Virgil didn’t flinch.

“This isn’t about me. It’s about you. So why don’t you get your _stupid_ head out of your ass and understand that we fucking care about you and don’t want you to _**die!**_ ” His voice doubled at the end as he grabbed the sofa arm next to Remus.

“Virgil,” Patton said warningly, and he backed off, sitting down cross-legged on top of the sofa back. “Kiddo,” he turned back to Remus. “I’m so sorry that we made you feel that way. We haven’t been the best at listening to you, huh?” Remus shook his head.

“But it’s fine, really,” he interjected, before Patton could continue. “You shouldn’t have to listen to me, I know it can get tiring and I’m really annoying and-”

“Remus.” he fell silent at Janus’s voice. “Listening to you is not a burden. It never will be, and it never has been. You are just as deserving of an opinion and contributions as anyone here.” Janus gripped his hand.

“What we’re trying to say is… we don’t hate you. Nobody does. And I don’t exactly know how to make you believe that, but whenever you’re ready, we’ll still be here,” Logan spoke, an uncharacteristic waver in his voice.

Remus fell silent. He stared back at them, apprehension flitting across his features. After a moment of excruciating silence, Roman moved to sit beside him.

A hand landed on his shoulder, Roman looking at him with such _concern_ , and Remus held out for only ten seconds before his eyes welled with tears.

“Hey. I’m here.” Roman’s arm circled around him, tugging him into a hug. Remus melted into him, never having been so _warm_.

“You’re so _cold_ ,” Roman murmured, arms tightening around him. Remus tensed, closing his eyes.

“I mean… ‘s not too warm near my room. And Janus is the only one willing to touch me. But he’s cold, ‘cause of the… snake stuff.”

“Well, you won’t have to be cold anymore.” Logan spoke, the couch dipping beside Remus and a hand resting on his shoulder.

“I know I haven’t been the best recently, but… my door’s open.” Virgil’s voice sounded from behind him, a small touch on his back.

“Careful Vee, you might make me think you actually like me!” Remus joked, but it came out quieter than he intended.

Virgil scoffed. “Of course I don’t, dumbass,” he joked, but there was an edge of fragility in his voice.

“Kiddo, I’m so sorry. I’ll be better. I promise.” Patton sat down in front of him, a hopeful smile on his face that only made the tears come faster and blur his vision. Still, he kept his composure as much as he could.

Janus pressed up against him, holding his hand in a death grip. “I’m always going to be here. But if you decide to pull something like that again? I’ll-”

“I won’t,” Remus sighed.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault. You deserve to live, and deserve to be listened to, and we need to be better about telling you that.” Roman murmured, hugging him tighter.

And then, surrounded by his family, Remus let himself cry.

It wasn’t perfect.

Remus didn’t quite believe it yet.

But it was a start.

And he was going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Please let me know if anything is offensive or could be worded better, or just simple things like grammar/spelling mistakes.


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